12 hours ago I landed at the international airport in Buenos Aires. The first time I landed there, 7 years ago now, I had no idea what I was in for. When I returned two years after that, I thought it was to teach- little did I know it was to fall in love with this city. I walked through my old neighborhood today, stepping over the same cracked sidewalks, crossing the same cobbled streets, dodging the same crazy drivers and I felt such a mixture of surreal-ness and at-home-ness. For two years it has existed only in my memory, and now suddenly, it is real again.
Returning here is so different than returning to Michigan. Every time I leave Michigan, I know that I will return, and I generally know when as well. Michigan is such a fundamental part of who I am that I am never really far from her, even when on the other side of the world, and my continual return is never in question. But here, every step back is a small miracle, a gift to treasure and savor.
It's going to take my brain some time to adjust to being here, but that's okay. For now I am content with the unreal-ness of it: the laughs with friends over coffee, the struggles of my tongue to respond in Spanish, the sounds of the cars as they rumble down the streets, the chill of a Buenos Aires winter day. And I am reminded of the cliché that each day is a gift, that no matter where I am I carry the people and places of my life in my heart. Today begins my 20 days of the gift of Buenos Aires. The gift of these people, these friends, this language, this city.
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